


i crave nothing but the taste of you

by onceagainoncemore



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: (aka vampires are technically dead), (between eddie/myra), Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Coming In Pants, First Time Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Love Confessions, M/M, Vampire Bites, discussions of dead bodies, mild petplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25270855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceagainoncemore/pseuds/onceagainoncemore
Summary: "Why the fuck is your dick cold?"Or: vampire/werewolf reddie porn. But a little bit different this time around.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 26
Kudos: 284
Collections: Monster Reddie





	i crave nothing but the taste of you

Eddie has spent all of his remembered life (from about nineteen to forty) controlling his instincts. He carefully shaves the excess hair that stays on his body after each full moon. He locks himself in his room, chained to the bed, when he transforms until he's as docile as any domesticated dog. He pretends he doesn't smell it when mince is from the wrong animal and he forces himself to not eat raw meat, no matter how much he wants to. 

But when he stands in that restaurant and feels his nostrils flare when he smells  _ him _ , he can't help the truly embarrassing pant that takes over his mouth, and he has to cover his face with his hands to force his tongue back inside his mouth.

Because Richie, as he always did, smells perfect. Well, not perfect, not perfect at all, a lot like cheap airplane whiskey and a little like decomposing flesh (which, as Eddie remembers from when they were younger, means Richie needs to feed soon) but it's Richie, and it builds a whine up in Eddie's throat that he has to cough away. 

You couldn't even tell Richie was a vampire now, not by the way he looks. He's tall and broad shouldered, hairy enough that he looks more wolf-like than Eddie does, but when he grins at everyone, he can see those gigantic canines, that deadly mouth, the teeth that go all the way down to Richie’s gums.

Eddie raises a hand to his neck. He has old vampire scars there, a question he used to brush away whenever someone asked where they were from, but he has a feeling he knows now.

"Is that Eddie? My favorite little puppy!" Richie cheers, pulling Eddie into a hug, and Eddie is not sure which one of them shudders at the contact. Eddie can feel Richie’s mouth begin to open against his neck, and he tilts his head instinctively, allowing Richie the room to bite down. He doesn't, though. He steps back before he does, and smiles at Eddie, that private small smile Eddie only ever got when they were alone, away from the world, even including their friends. “You haven’t grown a single inch!”

“Fuck off,” Eddie grumbles, and pushes at Richie’s chest, but he’s smiling.

Eddie purposely doesn’t sit next to Richie, because he knows if he does, he’s going to spend this entire reunion focused on how Richie smells and what it would feel to get bitten again, even on his wrist or somewhere where it doesn’t feel as good as his neck. He’s married, for fuck’s sake, and he can’t spend two hours thinking about how he used to come in his shorts whenever Richie fed from him.

“You got married?” Richie says, somehow determined to get Eddie's attention, raising an eyebrow, and Eddie sinks a little lower into his seat. “What? To, like, a woman? Does she know about the-”

“Fuck you,” Eddie groans, looking up at the ceiling. He really didn’t want to answer this. “No, she fucking doesn’t, because I don’t want to wake up one day with a silver bullet through my chest. I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Richie to see the frown he’s sporting. Eddie ignores it, until Richie says something about being married- he doesn’t fucking smell like he’s with someone, but he can’t help the hot flash of jealousy- and tells Richie he needs to get new material, how the fuck was he still making money off jokes he was telling thirty years ago?

_ Because he’s fucking funny, _ Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t say that aloud.

Eddie’s distracted from Richie, sitting with his elbows on the table, which should be a turn off, but it lets Eddie see the muscles a vampire- a  _ dead body- _ like him should not own, when the fortune cookies begin their torment, creeping and crawling and squirting sludge and other nasty smelling liquids. Ben shoves him behind him, which Eddie is extremely thankful for, because Richie starts calling out his name and Eddie is  _ weak _ , and still can’t pay attention properly. When they leave the restaurant, Eddie slips his ring off, tucking it into his pocket, and his hand has never felt better.

They head off for the inn, argue for a little about Mike’s absolute horrible plan, and sway back and forth on whether they’re all going to leave until Beverly tells them they’re all going to die. So they stay, and Eddie has to drag his luggage back upstairs, and stares at himself in the bathroom mirror.

He growls, baring his teeth. They’re nowhere near as big as they should be. Richie’s poke down so much he used to get ulcers on the bottom of his mouth back when he was still growing. Stan’s were, if not big, were sharp. All of Bill’s were long and pointed, and the layers of teeth went down to his throat. Eddie’s were small, and dull, and he knows from photos of his wolf from when he was younger that even transforming doesn’t make them any more threatening.

Eddie sighs, and drops the snarl. And then smiles, like a normal human. He’s spent so long trying to make himself look normal, and being around his old friends has made him regret that. They’re all so comfortable in their monster features, Richie with his teeth and purpling skin, Bev who never needs a lighter to light her cigarettes, Bill using that voice of his to convince everyone an obviously fake story, Mike who could travel so quickly through the trees and grass he could almost teleport. And what did Eddie have?

He licks his lips, and then makes a wolfish huffing sound, pressing his tongue to the back of his teeth. It feels almost unnatural, after decades of suppressing instincts. There’s a loud knock on his door, and Eddie yelps.

“It’s just me, you overgrown chihuahua,” Richie says. Eddie scowls. Stupid vampire hearing. He leaves the bathroom, and opens the door to his room. Richie shakes the bottle of whiskey he’d stolen while everyone was arguing over their deaths, and Eddie lets him step in. “I don’t want to sleep.”

“Couldn’t find a place to hang upside down?” Eddie says, cocking his head innocently, and Richie snickers.

“Good one,” He says, and ruffles Eddie’s hair, flopping to lay on the bed, the whiskey sloshing in the bottle, and Eddie really doesn’t want to sleep in a puddle of liquor, so he steals the bottle, sitting down with his back against the headrest. “I just don’t trust sleep right now.”

“Dreams,” Eddie agrees softly, and uncaps the bottle, downing a swig. It burns.

“Slow down, cowboy,” Richie says, and sits up, making grabby hands for the bottle. Eddie hands it over, and Richie takes his own swig, smaller than Eddie’s. “You’re supposed to enjoy the taste.”

“It tastes like gasoline,” Eddie says, with a straight face, and Richie bursts into laughter. “This is the cheapest shit I’ve ever had.”

“Savour the taste!” Richie says, taking another sip. Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Did you come to my room just to get drunk the night before we’re going to murder a clown?” Eddie asks, and shakes his head when Richie offers the bottle back to him. Richie grabs the cap, and screws it on tightly, before throwing the bottle to the ground. “Because I’m pretty sure we need a good night’s rest to survive. Like, at the very least.”

“I got my best exam results when I didn’t sleep,” Richie says, as if he was offering useful advice.

“Your body is designed to go days without sleeping,” Eddie points out. 

“What, just because I’m dead?” Richie says, fake offended. 

“You don’t even have a heartbeat right now, Richie,” Eddie says, chewing on his cheek. He’s only guessing that, of course, but Richie really does smell horrible. Eddie pauses to listen, and no- there’s no sound of a second heartbeat. “I don’t think depriving yourself of sleep will make your condition much worse.”

“It’s impossible to find blood when you’re on tour,” Richie sighs. “I just live off raw meat, honestly. And it’s all treated and chemical-y-”

“You could feed from me,” Eddie says, even though he knows it’s a horrible idea. Richie looks up at him, pupils wide, mouth open just wide enough that Eddie can see through to those canines. “I don’t mind. I still have the scar from when you used to do it so- easy access, I guess.”

“Eddie-” Richie says, and then crawls forward on his hands and knees so he’s over Eddie’s body, and Eddie swallows. “This isn’t something you joke about.”

“You joke about it,” Eddie says, voice a little hoarse. Richie is so close. 

“Ghostwriter, he’s a bastard,” Richie deflects, leaning a little closer. “Eddie, your scar is on your neck. You- I shouldn’t have done that as a kid- Mags told me not to, but with you, it was just so hard.”

Eddie raises a hand to cover the mark, rubbing the tip of his pointer finger over it. “What’s so wrong with the scar?”

“I bit you where couples bite each other,” Richie confesses. Eddie’s mouth drops a little open, and Richie copies, teeth so close to him and yet he still wasn’t fucking biting. Eddie has to be brave, or they’re just going to sit like this until Richie remembers the alcohol, because he  _ knows _ what Richie was like before the first bite. 

“I know,” Eddie breathes. He didn’t, not really, but he always had that sneaking suspicion. Never enough to corner Richie, never enough to speak out and know Richie would catch him, but always there nonetheless. 

“You’re married,” Richie says, and Eddie closes his eyes.

“I don’t want to be,” He admits, whispering softly, and moves his hand down from his bite mark, and tilts his head to the side. An invitation. He’s not sure what he’d do if Richie rejects him. “I like the scar, Richie. I like where it is.”

Richie bites down. 

Eddie arches into it, the first few seconds of searing, burning pain coursing through every nerve in his body before the venom sinks through, and a shudder tears through his body. Richie pulls back after only a few moments, and licks at the wound, and Eddie can’t stifle the whine that’s pulled from his body. He’d missed this, even if he’d never remembered it outside of Derry, the heavy arousal forcing his eyes half lidded, Richie’s closeness, how every breath felt like it was being filtered through rocks and stones, the fact that he’s harder now than he ever has been during his marriage.

Richie’s scent relaxes, the dead smell finally slipping away, settling back into something warmer, citrusy, something oh so familiar. Eddie can hear Richie’s heart start to beat once more, and the low beat of it in his ears does not help how turned on he feels. He looks up at the ceiling and pants, tongue fully out.

“Eddie?” Richie says. “Are you alright?”

Eddie blinks once, twice, thrice, before he can summon the energy to throw his arms around Richie’s neck, pulling his head down near Eddie’s face. “I swear to god,” Eddie murmurs, face bright red and hot, especially now Richie’s so close. “If you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to kill you.”

Richie chokes out a laugh. “Bossy,” He whispers, and closes the gap between them. Richie tastes like blood, metallic and warm, and Eddie moans a little, the sound not far off a humiliating  _ arf  _ sound. Richie pulls back, and studies Eddie’s face, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “Eddie.”

“Richie,” Eddie says, eyes flickering between watching Richie’s eyes roaming his face and looking down through their bodies to where Eddie can see both of their erections, straining through their boxers. Richie must’ve been hard the second he walked in, it hasn’t changed size at all. The thought is reassuring.

“I love you,” Richie says, and now that there’s blood in his system, he can produce tears, and Eddie wriggles so he could press a kiss underneath Richie’s eyes. “I’ve loved you. Since we were kids.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, because now that he’s looking back on it, they were both obvious. “I- why the fuck did you think I let you bite me?”

Richie licks his lips, and then freezes, tongue hovering outside of his mouth. “Oh,” He says, because as much as everyone bullies Richie, he’s the smartest loser. It just takes him a nudge to understand what’s happening underneath his nose. “Oh my god. You’re- Eddie, you’re-”

As much as watching Richie work through his confusion is adorable, Eddie is hard enough to hammer nails and Eddie is determined to do something about it before they need to go either get killed by a clown or destroy said clown. So he pushes down on Richie’s neck, kissing him again. Richie goes willingly, pressing his body against Eddie’s.

“There’s a better place for feeding,” Richie says, after a minute or so of kissing. Eddie makes an inquisitive sound. Richie drops one of his hands from Eddie’s cheek and slides it down his chest, trailing down until he grips at Eddie’s thigh, roughly kneading the flesh. Eddie’s mouth drops open to an  _ O.  _ “If you don’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Eddie mutters, spreading his thighs apart. “Just get to biting, Tozier. You smell like a graveyard.”

Richie grins. He doesn’t move, not yet, so Eddie has time to lean up for one more short kiss before shoving him down. This is not helping his erection at all, having Richie so close to his crotch, mouth ghosting over the inside of his thigh. He removes his hand from Eddie’s skin, and bends his head to lick.

Eddie’s going to come in his boxers just from this if Richie doesn’t hurry the fuck up. A few more long, long seconds of Richie breathing, cooling the saliva on Eddie’s leg, before he bites. 

Eddie jinxed himself.

The second Richie’s teeth go through his skin, Eddie’s back is arching, having to bite down on the heel of his palm, coming harder than he’s ever came before. Richie keeps biting him through it, the venom sinking in, forcing aftershock after aftershock through his body. He whines, low in his throat, and when he stops biting his hand, the whine turns to high pitched howl, and Richie pulls off to laugh hysterically.

“You howled!” Richie says, choking on his laughter, wiping his mouth and then under his eyes. “You just  _ howled!” _

“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” Eddie says, but he couldn’t force an annoyed tone out for the life of him. He was still dizzy from his orgasm, head pounding, mouth dry. “I think I just saw god. Holy fucking shit, Richie.”

“What?” Richie says, but then Eddie hears him take a deep, whistling breath through his nose, and then when he looks at Richie, his eyes are dilated, focused on Eddie’s now  _ very  _ wet crotch. There’s that tongue again, poking out, almost smelling the air like a dog would. “Eddie, did you just-”`

“Don’t even-” 

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever smelt in my life,” Richie says, dead serious, and Eddie barks out a laugh. Richie’s expression doesn’t change, even while he’s fumbling with his pants and boxers. Eddie swears under his breath when he sees Richie’s dick- there’s no way it’s actually that big, Eddie’s just high off vampire venom and his first ever good orgasm- and pushes Richie onto his back, tugging the clothes off himself. He gets a hand on Richie’s dick, and then drops it, wrinkling his nose.

“Why the fuck is your dick cold?” Eddie says, and Richie’s laughing again.

“Wait, like, three seconds for the blood to fucking settle in my body, Eds,” Richie says, wheezing.

“How do you even get it up without blood!” Eddie shrieks. 

“I don’t fucking know!” Richie says back, his voice also high pitched, and Eddie can’t tell if he’s making fun of him or actually concerned now. It sounds more like mocking, so Eddie sneers.

“I’m going to put a dick in my mouth that’s filled with an unknown vampire bodily fluid,” Eddie says, aloud. Richie chokes on his own breath, and goes to say something but Eddie’s found a way to shut him up - kissing him. So he does. Richie’s mouth is much warmer after this feeding, and his face feels softer, almost, with the blood pumping through. He can feel how huge Richie is against his leg as they kiss, and thankfully, it is gradually getting warmer. He moans softly, just at the feel of it, and Richie moans as well, biting on Eddie’s bottom lip. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Richie soothes, but it sounds more like a challenge than anything, so Eddie pulls away, and glares at him, before moving that glare at Richie’s cock. Both of them seem amused. He grips it again, and it’s finally about as warm as Eddie would expect a dick to be, but it's not fully hard. Somehow, Richie's dick was this big and wasn't fully hard. Eddie has to tilt his head up to the ceiling so he doesn't drool like he was a badly trained dog.

“Richie,” Eddie grits out.

“Uh huh,” Richie says, eyes looking a little dazed when Eddie looks down at him.

“You’re not hard,” Eddie says.

“I told you, wait for the blood to settle,” Richie mutters, waving a hand around. “Keep-  _ please  _ keep jerking me off, puppy, please.”

Eddie sighs, as if this was a chore he was doing, but slowly slides his hand up and down Richie’s cock, swallowing heavily as he watches it finally grow to full size. If Eddie was going to get that into him, he really was going to need to stretch himself. That thought should not be so fucking hot.

“I have no idea what the fuck to do, I hope you know,” Eddie says, inching his face closer. “Like, absolutely no idea.”

“Eddie,” Richie chokes out. “As long as it’s you, I’m pretty sure I could get off on anything.”

“Why the fuck are you a romantic,” Eddie mutters, and then keeps his mouth open, slowly sinking the first inch into himself. Richie makes some mangled muffled sound, probably with his hands in his mouth, but Eddie is entirely focused on what he’s doing. He thinks his jaw might break if he gets it all in, which- doesn’t entirely sound like a bad thing- but best to keep things manageable until he gets a divorce and doesn’t have to explain dick sucking injuries to a woman who thinks he’s very asexual.

Shit. Eddie needs to think about the divorce.

But there’s also currently a dick in his mouth, who needs a little more attention than Eddie’s new-but-not-new-at-all gay panic, so Eddie files that away for later, and concentrates on the task ahead. He can feel the little jerks of Richie’s hips the other is desperately trying to control, and Eddie places a hand on each side of Richie’s hips, pushing him down as well. Richie has more pure strength as a vampire, but Eddie is pretty sure just the threat of Eddie potentially biting his dick off will keep Richie from choking him.

“Puppy,” Richie warns, and Eddie pulls off to glare. “Eddie, I’m-”

“You cannot tell me you’re close already. Doesn’t your body need to make the sperm first? You know, now that it's warm enough with the blood? Can you not wait, like, three minutes?”

  
  
“Eddie, love, I know less about vampiric biology than you do cock sucking,” Richie groans. “And you can’t talk! You came just from being bitten!”

“I’ll force myself to go again if you’re really that annoyed about it,” Eddie says, meaning for it to sound joking, but Richie lets out a long moan, and Eddie decides that he too likes the idea. Eddie’s discovering far too much about himself just from Richie being near him. He looks back down at Richie’s dick, and runs his finger over the tip, spreading the saliva he’d left. Richie bucks his hips again.

“Don’t just say things like that, Eddie,” Richie says. “You’ll kill me.”

“Again?” Eddie says, and Richie huffs a laugh.

“Where are you finding all these vampire jokes?” Richie mutters, as Eddie speeds his hand up a little. “You sound like my ghostwriters.”

“Call me that again and I’m never touching your dick ever again,” Eddie threatens, and then bends back down to latch his mouth onto the tip, licking small, quick licks to the slit. It only takes a few more licks for Richie to come, and Eddie sits up, the substance still in his mouth, lips wrinkled.

“Swallow, puppy,” Richie whispers, reaching a hand out to tap on Eddie’s cheek. Eddie does, but not without a quiet whimper. “Good boy. Can you really go again?”

“I’m forty,” Eddie hisses, once he’s over the hot flush Richie’s compliment gives him. “Not right fucking now.”

“Calm down,” Richie says, and flops his head onto the pillow, wiggling under the blankets. “Round two can be celebratory sex once we’ve done this damn ritual.”

Eddie considers it, before he’s under the covers as well, nose pressed to Richie’s chest, curled around the larger man. Richie smells almost like he did when he was younger, sweaty and dirty, though Eddie knows the sweat’s come from him. It’s comforting. He feels like a teenager here, surrounded by his old friends, and the heavy atmosphere of Derry. But Richie’s here, as he always was, and Eddie sleeps easy no nightmares, no dreams.

  
-

“Oh, thank god,” Bill says the next morning. “Richie doesn’t smell like a goddamn trashcan this morning. Where’d the hell you find the blood? Did you go sniffing for a bloodbank here without me?”

There’s a brief pause, and then Eddie zips his jacket all the way up. Everyone stares at him, and then at Richie, who’s still got enough blood in him that his body is still warm and pinkish, and then back at Eddie.

“So that’s what I heard last night,” Bev says. Eddie splutters.

“Oh, the howling?” Ben asks, and Richie bursts into laughter once more, and Eddie turns to flail his arms, whacking Richie gently. “I thought there was a dog outside. I went looking for it.”

Eddie’s bright neon red when Richie drops a kiss onto his cheek. “Nope, just Eddie getting the best orgasm of his life.”

“Beep beep,” Stan says. 

“I mean,” Eddie says. “He’s not wrong.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come talk! i swear i don't bite. unless you ask](https://himbotozier.tumblr.com/)


End file.
